


on this night and in this light

by sueraya



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Future Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-19
Updated: 2014-04-19
Packaged: 2018-01-19 23:46:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1488661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sueraya/pseuds/sueraya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Come on, let’s get this thing over with.”</i>
  <br/>
  <i>“This thing,” he muses, regarding her incredulously, “you mean, our wedding?”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	on this night and in this light

The door creaks open and Killian spots a looming figure far behind his own reflection in the full-length mirror. He smiles but doesn’t turn around; at least, not yet.

“I thought it was bad luck to see the bride before the wedding.”

“Well, too bad.” Emma’s voice is faltering, and Killian realises that she’s just as nervous as he is. “I don’t think I’m ready.”

“Neither am I, love. I haven’t done anything quite like this before.”

“Yeah, but that’s only because you were a—”

“A pirate?” Killian turns to face her, frowning. “Pirates get married too, lass.”

“I was going to say ‘philanderer’.”

“Emma,” he says, striding across the room towards her, “I rejected every woman that my crew endowed me with during the missing year. All because I could never look at another woman the same way again. All I saw was you. All I _see is_ you.”

“You really waited a whole year for me?”

“I love you, Emma.” He holds her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “I’d wait a lifetime for you.”

“I love _you_ , Killian,” she says, grinning up at him. Then her smile vanishes; her lips purse together and a brow raises. “Hang on. Your crew _endowed_ you with women?”

“Well…” Killian reaches to the back of his ear and flicks it. “I can explain.”

“No need,” she smirks, and Killian relaxes. “I told you. I don’t care what happened.”

“You don’t, do you?” He waggles his brows at her. “Not even if I told you that I spent a whole year scouring each forest and ocean just to find a way to get back to you?”

“Nope,” she jests, smirking. “But I guess I’d say ‘thank you’. You know, for some of the effort.”

“Just ‘thank you’?”

“Just ‘thank you’.”

“Gods, Swan.” Killian smiles. “With that unyielding spirit of yours, you would have made a great pirate. Even the greatest, perhaps.”

“Damn,” she mumbles, “it’s too bad I’m a princess.”

“Yes,” he coos, “what a waste indeed.”

They had subconsciously inched closer with each cut and thrust, and now their foreheads are touching at the hairline. Their bodies brush lightly against each other with each breath; tuxedo shirt to satin dress, jacket sleeve to bare elbow. Even the thin crack of air separating them turns to mist as their breaths collide. She sighs into half-open mouth and he stirs, because it’s warm and pleasant and inviting. He grazes her upper lip with his bottom one and she sets her jaws tautly. They’re barely touching, yet Emma feels as though her whole body is lighting up on fire.

That’s all it takes to spur her into action. As if by force of habit, her hands reach for his collar. Instead of what she expects to find—the tough, sturdy leather of his coat—her fingers hit the smooth fabric of his tuxedo shirt’s tab collar. This doesn't stop her from tugging at them anyway, and she presses her lips firmly against his.

He responds by kissing her back, and soon their tongues dance and their teeth file abruptly over each other. Killian grins against her mouth; laughs into their kiss and sends a thrum of shivers that makes Emma’s skin buzz with exhilaration. His fingers press gently into the fluid shape of her backbone, and he thanks the universe for strapless wedding dresses. He rests his hook against her back where her spine meets her waist and resists the urge to rip up her dress altogether. Instead, he props her up and easily sets her on the dressing table— _Snow’s_ dressing table—as they continue kissing. She spreads her legs but only to a limit; her mermaid dress hugs securely at her knees, much to her annoyance.

Her palms are compressed against his chest and they’re sweaty; he knows this because he feels his tuxedo shirt damp with tension and excitement. Emma draws her fingers up to his head, twisting them through his hair like tangled blades in the summer. Her own hair had been fettered into a tight bun; Snow had left her in the hands of a thrilled Ruby and an equally enthusiastic Belle. Killian simply tilts his head and rests his temple against Emma’s cheek as he lets her explore his roots.

“Emma,” he breathes, allowing her name to linger on the tip of his tongue, “what about our—”

“Right.” Her cheek is still pressed against his temple. Their wedding. Of _course_. “Okay.”

“It’s all right, love,” he assures, snickering at her attempt to dawdle. “Let’s meet back here right after.”

“Okay,” she says again, nodding against his temple. “Deal.”

“Right after,” he repeats, “we say ‘I do’.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

“Not if I show up first.” Killian winks at her and again, it’s more than enough to shake her bouncing nerves away. “Which, of course, I will.”

“Then I guess it’s a race.”

They still don’t release their grips on each other, though. He’s softly nipping at the plinth of her neck and it’s really not fair because he _knows_ it’s her weak spot; each time his lips touch that part of her skin, she melts right through. Emma moans into his ear as Killian brings his lips towards her shoulder, sweeping them gently across her collarbone. She closes her eyes and feels gooseflesh ridging on her skin. He continues to skim over her chest with the softest of kisses, trailing the lining of her dress where the satin meets the curves of her breasts. Emma finds herself wrapping her hands around his neck again, thumbing across his jawlines and feeling his stubble prick lightly at her fingers.

The door creaks open again and they freeze. Killian jerks his chin up and Emma loosens her grip on his face. Her face is still flushed pink, and Killian is panting slowly as his breath hitches in his throat. They don’t glance at the doorway; their eyes remain fixated on each other as they wait for the unwelcome guest to speak up.

“Emma.”

 _Oh god_. She squeezes her eyes shut and covers her face with her hands. David, the prince, her _father_ , walking in on her and her future husband an hour before the ceremony isn’t exactly one of the things she’d counted on happening tonight. Killian rubs the back of his neck and eventually wills his own feet to turn around and face the prince. David is leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed against his chest, his nose scrunched up in distaste.

“Mate,” the pirate greets, his voice thorny and prickling with unease.

“You’re going to be late,” David mumbles to the floor before hastily spinning round to leave, muttering, “for your, uh… _wedding_.”

“Bloody hell,” Killian murmurs, “that wasn't a very good start to becoming an in-law, now, was it?”

“Not at all.” Emma’s face crumples in mortification. She grabs hold of his hand and groans. “Come on, let’s get this thing over with.”

“This thing,” he muses, regarding her incredulously, “you mean, our wedding?”

“ _Yes_ ,” she says, sounding exasperated, “so we can get to the ‘right after’ part.”

“That’s more like it,” he grins, kissing her once more before he leads her out of the tiny room and on into their new life together.


End file.
